Flee to Narnia and You'll be Safe
by Gear's Girl
Summary: Her mother always told her brother "Oh my darlings, flee to Narnia and you'll be safe."  Inspired by recently watching Prince Caspian and reading the Last Battle
1. Prolouge

**Flee To Narnia and You'll be Safe**

Disclaimer: Not mine, only Caspi and her brother

An: Please Review and let me know what you think.

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"_Oh my darlings…" my mother used to say as she held my younger and I close to her in bed. "Oh my darlings when it seems like the worst has come flee to Narnia and you will be safe." Narnia, this land of mythical talking creatures of kings and queens of old, stories my mother used to tell us when we were little. She always got a sad look in her eye when she spoke of this Narnia and I would often catch her wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. She would speak of such vibrancy and such passion and love for this fairytale land, as almost as if she was there. As my brother and I got older, she would only speak of Narnia after our father either had drunken himself to a stupor or had gone to bed. She would tuck my brother and I into bed and whisper "remember my darlings. Remember Narnia…" Some days it seemed Mother would be lost off in this Narnia world, she would go away when my father would rage, she would almost be in a depression, she would sit in the old rocking chair and rock with a dream like expression as she stared off into the flames of the fires. Mother never really spoke much of her past, before she met and married father except for stories of old Narnian tales, of the high king and queens, of a great savor named Aslan and of a dear old creature called Reepicheep. Mother was one of the sole survivors of a massive rail crash, when she was close to adulthood; the crash took her family and her life, shortly after she met and married father. I often wondered why mother would always whisper to us "flee to Narnia and you will be safe…" and what she meant by it._

"_Run my darlings!" Mother lay gasping on the floor of our country cottage. "Run, run to the woods, to the twisted tree," the fear in her eyes as the flames licked at the curtains and the floors my father raging in the background. "Run…" she whispered. "Flee…now…flee my darlings…" _

_My brother tugged at my hand pulling "We have to go Caspi…" With some sudden strength, my frail mother pushed herself to her feet and pushed us out the door. An explosion crackled the still night air as a fireball rose high illuminating the darkness, knocking up to our feet. "Take Tristan, Caspia take care of your brother….now run…" My mother said with such a strength I have never heard from her before, her pale blue eyes seeming to spark with a fire that had long ago died out._

_Scrambling to our feet, I grasped my brother's hand tightly as we ran slipping across the frosted grass, as fire seemed to rain down on the earth to the forest on the edge of our farm. "Flee to Narnia…and you will be safe…" Mother's voice echoed. _

"_Caspi, look the twisted tree…." Tristan said pointing sliding to a halt as I nearly slammed into him. "The tree is glowing…" I looked back over my shoulder at the flames licking the night sky. My brother's faith in our mother pulled us forward stumbling toward the tree, "Come Caspi…" he whispered…and we fell…._


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Not mine, just Caspi and her brother, inspired after reading the last battle and watching prince Caspian.

An: Please read and review.

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Chapter 1

"Caspi…" her brother whispered his disheveled blond hair and his blue eyes wide with wonder as he looked around the sun filled glen, only moments ago had he and his sister been running across the pitch black frosted field of their family's farm in England. Caspia brushed the hair that had escaped from her immaculate braid from her face as her own blue eyes looked around the warm sunny glen. "Caspi," her brother said pulling her to her feet. "Do you think Mother was right? Are we in Narnia?"

Brushing her hands on her skirt Caspi grasped ten-year old Tristan's hand as they slowly ventured toward the sounds of the stream. "It's like how Mother described it…" She said softly as she tipped her face back to feel the warm sun on it. "Stay close Tristan…" she said as they slowly explored along the stretch of the stream, which led out to the mouth of a glittering sea. The children had only seen the sea once upon a time.

"Do you think they are real?" Tristan asked looking up at his sister.

"Who?" Caspia said still in awe and wonder of the land they were in.

"You know, the ones Mother talked about," Tristan said. "The dryads, and the dancing trees and talking bears and the Reepicheep…"

"What do you two know about Reepicheep?" a gruff sounding voice came from behind the children. The children let out a squeak and jumped at the sound and whirled around to see a small man with a long beard. "What are you two doing in these parts?"

"Caspi…" Tristan said in a whisper tugging on his sister's hand, "It's a DLF…" His blue eyes darted over to the dwarf and back to his sister in excitement. "Mother told us about him…"

"Not him Tristan…" Caspia corrected her brother. "I doubt he's the same one Mother told us stories about."

"Who are you two and what are you doing here?" the dwarf asked again both suspicious and curious as to what the children were talking about and how they had come to be in Narnia. Though strange children appearing in Narnia were not an entirely strange occurrence, it had become much of the Narnian folklore.

"I'm Caspia Sophia Philips and this is my younger brother Tristan Peter Philips," the girl of 14 said. "We're from England…" the little boy piped in. "We came through the twisted tree. Mother said too."

"You're mother said to come to Narnia?" The dwarf said raising an eyebrow. "Now how is it that outsider's like yourselves have come to know of Narnia." Their names were not normal human children names but sounded rather Narnian to him. The current king of Narnia was named Tristan the 6th and the girl's name sounded like a female version of a past Narnian king.

"Mother used to tell us stories of Narnia," the boy said. "Such grand stories of talking beasts and the kings and queens of old—"

"How do you know of the Kings and Queens of old?" the dwarf asked interrupting them. "How does your mother know of them? "

"Mother would tell us stories of them, of the great fun and adventures they would have, of the hunts and parties, of the great battles and of Aslan…" Tristan said hardly being able to contain his excitement. Their father had always called their mother's stories fanciful rubbish and lies.

"Aslan?" the dwarf said in surprise. "Just who is your mother?"

"Mother?" the boy said looking confused. "Mother is mother."

"Mother's name is Susan," the girl said softly. "Susan Pevensie Philips."


End file.
